Fallout: Vaulted - Jump 133
by bearblue
Summary: A self-insert multi-part snippet/story of a woman who is much more than she seems. Of course she is. This is her one hundred and thirty-third jump. It's not her first broke-down world, and it's not going to be her last. But it is Fallout, so there's a bit of mayhem.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fallout: Vaulted - Jump 133

Rating: Currently PG, but to be safe, I'm posting M on

Summary:

A self-insert multi-part snippet/story of a woman who is much more than she seems. Of course she is. This is her one hundred and thirty-third jump. It's not her first broke-down world, and it's not going to be her last. But it is Fallout, so there's a bit of mayhem.

Words: This Work is BETA and while it is story-like, it is UNFINISHED

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, which pretty well guarantees that " ownership, " of some of the characters belongs to others, for example: J.K. Rowling and Universal, Bethesda, DC, Marvel, Disney, and so on. This work is entirely based on affection, is not-for-profit, but for praise or at least enjoyment. This work draws inspiration from Fallout (all of them), Harry Potter, and 133 successful jumps in a long jumpchain, of which this is the most recent one. That puts this squarely in self-insert-landia and its resulting possibility of either being finished very quickly or not finished, depending on how this rolls.

The jump this is based on can be found by searching quicksilver's jumpchain google drive. It is in the completed folder, under Fallout.

Beta Readers: It's embarrassing enough that this is out and out an SI, but it is literally my attempt to stir my writing back up into something less of a spiral of doom. I couldn't bring myself to drop this in front of my usual beta readers.

A/N - This is a Self-Insert (a fiction where an author inserts themselves into the story) based on a long jumpchain (essentially a single-player multi-universal RPG that offers perks, and loot for participating) that is technically still in progress. The jumpchain is now at 143 jumps, with the Fallout jump being 133. This SI has visited many different worlds to arrive where she currently is at, including Marvel-verses, Disney-verses, DC-verses, Starcraft, Minecraft, Terraria, SAO, RWYB, Kill La Kill, Harry Potter, and so many others that it's really too much to list. I will attempt to remember to put a notation somewhere if recognizable people are seen, but honestly, the perks of the jumps are more important to the story at this point and they come from all over the place. So, adding to the disclaimer above, I'll just say if you recognize something, look at it as an homage of respect, and recognize that I know I don't own the monetary rights to anything here, except myself and any original characters that might show up.

A/N - This fiction likely draws from several sources for inspiration - and each has been researched to some small degree, but canon is likely to float right out and get eaten by a Deathclaw. Just saying.

A/N - I hereby label this story AU. While it starts from movie core, game core, book core, fan fiction and even youtube fanvid and walkthrough inspirations, it is set in a reality that is both magical and dangerous and altered by events within the story. Also because Diresquirrel crossovers (on ) are worth reading whether they are complete or not, I am saying the story is inspired by it, but not so that it is vastly recognizably so... Also, game engineers will limit encounter creatures and world visuals for gameplay reasons, but a real world is often vibrant and full of life, even after catastrophe. Think of this as being a heavily modded version of Fallout if it helps. *stamp* AU *endstamp*

A/N - This snippet uses mystical and magical happenings, along with what you might expect of a technologically advanced, if a bit different from my starting point, world that went boom. So that makes this the dangerous kind setting, which means that some events are darker and more dangerous and possibly unfriendly with a lot of blood and gruesome. Because it is Fallout and apocalyptic that way. *stamp* MAYHEM! *endstamp*

A/N - I generally don't like writing first person for fiction, at all, but it doesn't make sense to write an SI as third person, because I tend to identify third person as distinctly different than myself. Recognizing that a 4000+ year old is far, far more mature, wise, and different than myself, I still find that if I'm going to write an SI it will make much more sense to write it as an aspect of "I". Although, I will point out, that in jumpchain-verse, it is customary that the side effect of taking on a new life which isn't just a drop in, is that it affects a person, even if that person has skills for remembering who they are. That said, any lack of wisdom, failure to plan, or other "stupid," behavior is likely my failing, rather than my SI's. Also, I may engage in authorial handwavium if I know something likely worked, but I don't know how to explain it.

A/N - Story mechanics. Usually in my stories, if I want something to happen, it happens, but because this is more of an action role play, there will be times I throw the dice to make the determination. I won't say when I do it, but if it's really inconvenient to my SI or amazingly awesome, there is an even possibility I went for the chance roll and ran with it. On the other hand, I am the author, so final call is my hammer to the story's anvil.

A/N - Just in case, though for the current number of chapters, really, there's not a lot - the SI has been around a long time and has adult relationships. I don't currently anticipate a lot of hanky-panky, but who knows. The perks for love and more are aplenty, even without visiting the really naughty Universes. *stamp* It's M for More, right?*endstamp* *stamp* Polyamory *endstamp*

A/N - I'm just going to use a fake name for my SI because using my own name feels a bit ridiculous and privacy and sundry other reasons. And I recognize the special snow-flakiness of the name, but what the heck, might as well have fun somewhere. I shall otherwise play it a little serious. After all, this is a Fallout world. Okay, maybe not that serious….

Part 1:

The Exit

My name is July Sky and today was my graduation day. I was of average height for a girl and a regular size for pretty much everything else. I thought my face was okay. I had hazel eyes and had short, curly dark hair on the top of my head. I wore a vault jumpsuit with the number 133 imprinted boldly and goldly on it. I wore vault approved socks and sturdy boots on my feet.

I stood nervously waiting, along with three of my peers, for the real event to get started. We were all at the end of this summer quarter, sixteen. Sixteen was both a terrifying and a magical age, in that it meant really big changes. To this point our lives had been warm, loving and slightly regimented, but always safe. We were parented by our vault village, educated by them, and coddled a bit. But the easy times were over. We each carried a small bundle, our worldly goods in a pack, the clothes on our backs, a flask of purified water and sundry food and medical items (enough for a few days and applications, but no more) and two weapons; a knife and a 10mm pistol, with a little ammo.

We also each had some version of the pip boy, full of the sum of the vast electronic library held by the vault and featuring various doodads, such as a radiation detector, that would help us, in theory, navigate the brave new world. Mine happened to be a slimmer model in a glove, but my friends had hefty looking armbands.

We had a little knowledge of the outside. After the vault door first opened there had been visitors, though not consistently. There had been talk of trade, but nothing had come of it. And even with the information they had shared, it was still hard to know what the future held. Thus we four did not know the true extent of changes to expect in the world, except that it was sometimes hazardous. We heard stories of scorpions the size of small rooms, long-lived beings that were either feral or wise from living all that time, and incredible mutations of flora and fauna. We also knew that we were lucky, as the placement of our vault set us deep into the mountains, where we were protected from the effects of radiation and the water and food remained pure, with the help of technology.

Our young adult education were based on the idea of useful skills. I was part of the girl scouts, and so had some small amount of survival training, though it wasn't wilderness survival. It was more how to shoot the rifles and pistols in the armory, how to recognize radroach infestations and what to do if the elevator stopped working, training. I was also part of the young business people group, where I learned some skills in barter and trade, usually involving cookies and juice. When I got older, my parents saw to it that I had a three year apprenticeship with Uncle Mike and Uncle Steve, who taught me many life skills, including how to repair, improve and cobble together pretty much anything I could get my hands on. The sturdy pip boy on my hand was a good example of their influence. Which meant, yes,my uncles had squirreled away some tools into my pack.

I was going to miss them fiercely.

Still, the point is, my peers and I were as prepared as our vault family could make us before being let loose into the world like fledglings falling from a nest.

In theory, we had been chosen. In practicality, there was no choice. Vault life was good, but it was also prone to crowding. While some might be able to stay, others, the most of us… were sent on into the wilderness; to survive or not. Usually these were the children of the body rather than of the lab, which had ways to keep the genetics of the vault clean. I had a mother and father, but my friend Tom was born from a breeding station. For that reason, it actually surprised me that he was here, as technically he was part of a new bloodline, but some people just have the urge for adventure and Tom was always a curious guy, if sometimes a little bitter for his age.

At the Overseer's command we lined up. He said a few words, that were mostly ceremonial in nature, about leavings and returns and farewells. Then the alarm began to blare and the lights began to flash and the vault's seal began to rotate. He wished us luck and the blessings of the divine and then it was time to go.

==Vaulted==

The vault does not lack light, nor does it lack air movement. In fact, it's a bright, well lit space and the air purifiers, along with the indoor plants, keep the air sweet and at perfect temperatures. But there was a tangible difference to the experience of breathing and seeing as we stepped through the shadows of the cavernous pathway remained cool, but as we neared the exit, the heat rose. We turned a corner and light was reflected against the wall at another corner. I could tell it was very bright compared to what we were used to. I flipped the lighting on my goggles so they darkened and encouraged Tom, who was walking by me, to do the same.

I'd love to say that those I was journeying with were great friends, but we ran in different circles. We had classes, and community events, but that had no guarantee of camaraderie. Still we were friendly enough and we'd all made a basic agreement to stay with each other, at least until we reached the closest settlement. At last word, it was about three-fourth of a day's walk. That didn't seem too bad. While we might not all be athletes, we were in fairly good condition. All of us did our morning exercises in the commons.

By the time we arrived at the next turn, the light seemed very bright and the humidity in the air had dropped quite a bit. I was suddenly grateful we had water, which if we stuck to the plan, should carry us well on our journey.

We were walking two in front, two in back. Tom and I were last. This turned out to be a fateful choice, several sharp noises cracked and our walking companions, Cherise and Nick jerked and shook. Blood splashed everywhere. I felt copper in my mouth and my ears rang. By the time they were falling, I had crouched to the ground and managed to grab my pistol. Tom grabbed our two companions, yanking and dragging them back. I got as near to a wall as I could get, trying to make myself one with the shadows. My heart was beating thunderously, but I wasn't feeling shaky. I was too angry.

I could hear shouts of, "Did you get 'em? Did you get 'em!" Followed by affirmations. And a shout of, "Slim pickin's this time, but you can't have everything…"

Tom and I were now situated behind the corner. We were trapped, but I only heard two or three voices, and unless there were more, we were not necessarily outnumbered, simply outflanked. If we went into the light we would be seen, but if we waited, we might have a chance to split them up.

I peeked around the side, one of the one's accosting us had started running forward. I raised my pistol, intending to shoot when Tom grabbed my arm and shook his head. He lifted his knife. We argued silently, mostly with eyebrows and grimaces, but Tom took my place and I rotated back. I took a chance and checked on our friends. Cherise was gone, but Nick was still breathing and that was about it. But there was no time to do anything about it. Then I thought to look at my pip boy and counted four red dots, including one very nearby. Great.

By the time I looked back up, the first raider or whatever he was, turned the corner, not even trying to be stealthy. Tom rose up behind him, grabbed him by the face and slit his throat in one smooth motion. I might have gaped a little; just a smidge.

That was one raider down and about 20 seconds later we heard, "Well?!"

Tom called out, only barely trying to disguise his voice. "They're dead! Come on in!"

Oh, this was going to go well. I silently shouted at him with with my facial expressions again, but lifted my pistol to readiness anyhow. He rolled his eyes at me, but otherwise kept his attention on that corner.

Then, two other raiders strode in, weapons pointed to the ground, laughing. The world seemed to slow down with my breathing and I found myself making life and death choices for these people. Two shots to the head on one, one shot to the head on the other and those laughs were gone. Tom was on the move too, as a third raider crossed in behind the other two.

My pip boy pinged and I looked at it and sighed in relief. And then there were none.

I went to check on Nick, but he was gone too.

"We can't let anything go to waste," Tom said as he patted my shoulder. "Not anything."

He was right. We did not know what was ahead. I nodded my head, and began silently gathering Nick and Cherise's belongings. Then we began taking stock of the people who attacked us. The guilt I was starting to feel regarding looting the bodies shifted to zero when I found a familiar necklace around the neck of one of the raiders. The raider looked nothing like my cousin Denise and was recognizably different from anyone I ever knew.

I realized then that these people had been waiting specifically for us. And it made me sick to think how many of us had never even made it past the entrance, because these people had been lying in wait, every quarter of the year, for who knew how long. Given the necklace there had been at least a half year's worth of candidates, something like seven of us. Gone. And who knew how long these people had been at this, so possibly even more than that.

By the time we left the cave, we had armor, new weapons and various other supplies of questionable origins. Outside the cave and not too far away, there was a two-headed cow, fully loaded with objects and ready to go. Beside it were the embers of a campfire. Not only had they been waiting for us, they were ready go with whatever they gained from us. Vultures.

It took me a moment to quit shaking from rage, and oddly, it was the friendly snuffle of the surprisingly sweet-eyed tri-horned, or would that be six-horned, beast with two heads that calmed me down. I should have been appalled, I suppose, but I felt numb and I rested my hand on its head and pet it anyway. Both heads mooed, just like on the shows, and then the second head nuzzled me, also seeking comfort from a stranger. Or giving it. I couldn't be sure.

I looked at the world around us. The sky was a brilliant light azure blue, with no clouds. There were some grasses of varying colors ranging from green to brown, but not a lot and who knew where the water was. We couldn't just leave it here, could we? That would be cruel.

"We should take the cow," I said. I was fully prepared to argue my reasons, which I was quickly formulating to sound at least a little logical.

Tom nodded at me as he kicked dirt into the fire. "It'll make things easier to carry, though we should probably go through its packs anyhow."

Right, there was that too.

It was also Tom's opinion that it might be hazardous to our health to look like we had just come from the vault. So, a half an hour later, we were dressed in the cleaner versions of the clothes we found in its pack and some of the armor. I knew Tom was right, but I missed the blue and gold uniform instantly. After all, I'd been wearing some version of the uniform for years. After that we unpacked the goods and examined what was to be had and there was quite a bit. I spotted several more items that came from our vault, including a water and a food purifier. They'd never been unpacked, but rode in storage on the beast's back. Tom and I divvied up the supplies and goods into things to keep, sell, or divide between us when we found a town.

We put Cherise, Nick and the Raiders in three cairns, some distance away from the cavern. Then, because the vault door wouldn't reopen until the next ceremony, we wrote a message on the cave wall, where it could be seen easily, detailing what had happened and urging caution as there was no way to know if these were the only ones who took advantage of the Vault's Exit ceremony. We would not be hanging around, as our charge was to go out and explore.

Then we were on our way. We still had more than a half-day's journey ahead of us, if what we had been told was still correct. Despite everything, I felt surprisingly good. We had survived.

== Vault==

We trekked down the mountain slope, toward the valley below. It was hardly a silent trip, as the two-headed cow lowed and the gear it had on rattled with each swaying step. Tom took point, holding a rifle. I held the reins, leading the brahmin.

We'd learned a few new words, reading through some of the notes from the previous owners; who had not been the people who had tried to murder us. I was beginning to think we should have left those raider folk to the buzzards. I did spot a few of those hardy birds.

Despite my grimmer bouts of imagination, the world we entered had a good amount of flora and fauna. Hundreds of years is a long time and usually life will find a way, as had been proven in pre-war nuclear catastrophes. There had been a few terrible accidents, when people were just starting to put the nuclear power options together. It took humanity awhile to perfect fusion containers, among other things. I knew of at least one state that had a huge forest grow over their nuclear fallout site after their first reactor blew, so there was no reason to expect a complete dead forest effect from mere radiation.

That said, this did not mean the world and that which populated it went without being affected and a lot of bombs would not just spit out radiation, but would change the actual face of the planet. They would have created new lakes, new mountains. The weather and sea would be changed, and forests might grow, but also had to start over from obliteration and contamination.

A pre-war state conservation ranger would explain that sometimes a good burn would have to happen in a forest or meadow to allow the earth to renew itself. Some plants only grew after experiencing certain temperatures and it was nature's way of handling deadwood. But the kind of burn that full on nuclear war brought was not that good kind. The point being, yes, there was life and a surprising amount was likely and it might even appear as it would pre-war, but much would also twisted, and altered, like the sweet-tempered brahmin following us. And the giant scorpion that attacked us about a half a mile into the valley.

Fortunately, between the two of us and after a heart pounding battle that involved a lot retreat and fire, Tom and I were able to kill it. The fight made me really grateful that Tom had survived. The brahmin, likely the scorpion's real target, was completely unaffected and so we were able to carry on after we caught our breaths.

It seemed like we encountered aggressive giant scorpions every half an hour or so. By the time we saw the settlement, Tom and I had pretty much established a process for killing the things quickly and efficiently, even when they came at us in multiples.

I thought radroaches were bad.

I was still very glad to see the first glimpse of real human habitation though. Two towers rose above a large metal gate. The towers were part of a very tall wall. I could think of nothing natural that could just leap over them, but that might explain the swivel-headed turrets that were spaced evenly across them. I could see buildings that were two, maybe three stories tall behind them. From one perspective, the small town might seem as if it were washed out, but from the other, it was well cared for. The wall had no obvious holes and not just in its defenses. I had to applaud our neighbor's ingenuity, if not their potential honesty.

Still, I realized then that lack of paint did not mean lack of care. Though, a part of me wondered if anyone even knew how to make paint. After all, someone had been killing off those who did know.

Okay, that was a little bitter. But there was a mental point there. I don't know about other vaults, but my people prized ancient know-how; not the just the technical stuff, but the art of being more than mere survivalists. Then again, what my people knew may or may not apply. Some of what pre-war folk thought of as "natural order," had more to do with supply lines and access. If you don't have access to limestone, you can't even make whitewash, the most basic of non-toxic paints.

False judgement, get thee behind me. The world is hard enough without negative mental chatter.

Tom and I made our way to the gate without haste. We were close enough that if we were attacked we would likely receive help.

Maybe.

It depended. Were the people of the town of the sort that supported what the raiders had done, or the sort that supported the merchants the raiders had slain? Had they been wondering what was happening to their caravans and why they never saw vault dweller young adults any more? I wasn't entirely sure I really wanted to know the answer, because I worried what Tom's reaction might be. He was pretty scary with weapons in his hands.

We came to a halt at the call from the guard-bot. "State the nature of your visit."

Tom spoke, "Rest, recuperation, information retrieval and trade."

"There is a 10 cap charge for a single day trade pass, a 20 cap charge for a week of trade, a 40 cap charge for a month and a 150 cap charge for a permanent trade pass. The weekly pass comes with stable and housing for the merchants. The monthly pass includes the stable, housing and stall for the duration. The permanent pass includes the stable, housing, stall and access to the guild trade halls in several settlements. If you already have such a pass, please display it now."

Tom and I had discussed this when we found the trader's folder. It had several items in it, including a stamped trade pass. In theory, all we had to do was flash it, but I worried that anyone who knew the traders would question how we acquired the pass or why our names did not match. I much rather start with my own.

10 caps wasn't bad and 150 was probably a low-end deal, considering. In theory, it should cost far more.

"Why so cheap?" I blurted.

"The town of Spring Haven is aware of the dangers that merchants face and the importance of trade in the longevity of a community. The local guild officers agreed. Also, the guild itself is fairly new."

"Where do we pay?" I inquired.

"You may leave the caps with me and I will give you a receipt. This will give you passage into the town and you may take the receipt to the guild offices for your new pass."

I looked at Tom and he shrugged. "Up to you."

"Right." At this point it was obvious that this was a more than fair deal. We were taking it while we could. I went to the brahmin, which I'd named Betsy, and carefully retrieved the caps, making an effort not to disclose where I'd pulled them from, though I also took a little extra and pocketed them for just in case. Then I counted out 150 caps to the robot, who scooped it into its chest and locked it away. In a few seconds, and with a few whirs and dings, the receipt was discharged from its mouth. It then handed the receipt to me. "To find the guild offices, take the main road. You will see their sign on the left, after you pass Beaker's Bar. The stables and trade housing will be immediately to your right as you enter the gate. I recommend that one of you remain with the brahmin there, while the other secures your pass with the guild. You may proceed."

We started walking. "I wonder how much they would have charged if we hadn't had the brahmin and been obvious traders."

The robot, who apparently had excellent sensors said, "50 caps for an overnight stay at Holly's, at minimum."

I didn't know how much caps were worth, really, but I suspected that was pretty steep. I paused and then turned around, "So the high fees are a test for non-merchants?"

"Those who are willing to pay, are less likely to cause trouble."

"And it's a nice little tax in case they do."

"Correct," offered the robot, "Also, if they don't cause trouble, they can gain up to 40 caps back depending on when they leave."

I couldn't help the chuckle. Well, that was one way to keep the riff-raff out. Maybe not super hospitable, but likely if you were traveling you had to have some cash of some sort. I could see how the system might work. "Okay, then I think we likely got the better deal."

"That you did, young lady. Welcome to Sweet Haven."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Changes

The town was far cleaner than I expected, given the weathered look of the gates, and some of the descriptions provided the visitors to the vault. Sweet Haven was pretty well set up. The market location was obvious, just looking down the street. The stable/housing was to the right as promised. I showed the manager, a sturdy looking guy, who was stationed outside at a small kiosk, our receipt and Tom took the key. Apparently the housing was connected directly to the Brahmin's individual stables, with both the housing and stables double shuttered in case of storms. The manager promised that every stable had fresh feed, water, and bedding for the animals and the rooms behind were clean. The head was a shared facility, and the bathhouse was communal and up the street a ways, but there was a pump at each trough if we prefered free. The setup might be a little animal whiff, but it was pretty secure and we could close the door or not as we felt. Tom decided he wanted to handle getting Betsy situated while I went to deal with the guild.

We had yet to seriously talk about whether we would stay longer than a day or two, but we were at least here for an overnight and the packs on the animal had to come off and get stored. Before I left, I grabbed the original merchant's pass.

The bar was easy to find, and a clear sign pointed to the guild door. A guard on the outside nodded at me as I entered and one on the inside glowered enough that I knew he had eyes on me. Not that it bothered me. I liked that there was extra security. It spoke of enough prosperity that they were cautious.

I approached a wide counter, behind which sat a pretty blonde woman who was writing away furiously. I waited patiently, wondering if I should clear my throat or something, when she abruptly stopped, slapped the pen down and and looked at me. "May I help you?"

I silently handed her the receipt. She glanced at it neutrally, then smiled and nodded. "Excellent. Welcome to the Golden Caps Guild. We are very glad you've chosen to become a member."

I smiled back. "Hard to resist a great deal," I commented as she began pulling out a new folder.

"I'm Melinda Stadler, guildmaster of Sweet Haven. Welcome to the fold. We have a few forms to fill out. Why don't you pull up a stool."

My smile grew wider.

== Vaulted==

It turned out that found passes were worth a bounty. I'd gone ahead and turned that bounty into an extra pass for Tom, or myself, depending on how one looked at it. That way, if Tom decided he wanted to go his own way, he could and he would continue to have the benefit some relatively safe locations to head if he so desired. And so would I. After all, everyone needed someplace safe to retreat to sometimes.

At leaving, I had two new passbooks, 15 caps leftover, and two maps of the current known generally "safe," merchant trails. Safe being qualified as not as prone to raiders, but there was no guarantee about wildlife. Before I left the small guild hall, I'd examined the hire and trade boards, taking note of certain things. The guild provided not just merchant information, but mercenary information too, which made sense in context of the world.

Happy with the decisions I'd made, I visited the market to scope out goods and prices, then stopped briefly in the bar to pick up meals and drinks, which were quite reasonable, and then went back to our current residence with dinner. I suppose we could have got by on the supplies we'd brought, but honestly, it we had to get used to the local food sooner or later.

== Vaulted ==

Tom had Betsy fully unloaded and the merchandise stored in our temporary domicile by the time I arrived. Despite the grim beginnings of the day's travel, he smiled at me and, for the first time, I got a sense that he was a bit happier with things now. I handed him one of the local bottled citrus drinks and two sandwiches and then his passbook and map.

Then we sat down to eat, drink and just enjoy the relative peace and quiet for a moment. While we ate, we began to talk, reviewing the day and its events, consoling one another and discussing our plans.

"You can keep everything," Tom finally said. "Well, except for the scoped rifle I picked earlier and some, you know, supplies for the road. I'm already packed up." Ah, that explained his peacefulness. He'd arrived at a decision.

"Okay," I said. "You have enough caps? I checked and it's definitely the money around here."

He nodded. "I took 250. That should be plenty to start. You can keep the rest."

I blinked in surprise. "Are you sure about that?" That left me 2,850, minus the merchant fee, which was actually quite a bit to start with.

"You're going to need more than me, I think. You're planning on doing the barter and trade thing and I just… I just want to wander."

"Wandering is essentially what I'll be doing," I commented. "Except with the cow. I mean, the brahmin."

He laughed and lifted the map. "Yeah, but you're likely to stay on the road, and I want to explore." Then he tucked the map into his shirt and took a long, final swig of the drink. His sandwiches were gone. "I'm leaving tonight."

"Seriously?"

He shrugged. "I was ready to go when the Vault opened and I'm still feeling like I can go places. I might look around town, but I think I'm just going to head out. Thanks for this though." He tucked away his pass. "It'll probably be useful."

I wanted to argue practicalities with him, but I could see he'd made up his mind. I exhaled a bit, considering. "Well, stay safe and try to keep in touch. You can leave messages at the guild halls and all the trade route members carry post. I'll check on you. You're 133 family, like me." I thought a moment. I knew he hated his last name, which had been randomly generated by the vault computer. "I'll leave a note for Tom 133, what do you say?"

He smiled at that and set his empty bottle down. "Sure. If I reply, I'll leave a note for July 133."

I laughed. "Great."

He slapped his thighs and then stood. "You okay for the night?"

"Sure," I said. "I got room and board, and Besty will wake me if there's a problem. I'm good."

He nodded. "Then I'm gonna head out."

I stood up then, hugged him and watched as he gathered his pack from by the door. "See ya."

"Yeah."

And then, Tom was gone and I started, finally, to weep.

==Vaulted==

I didn't allow myself to stay in the blues too long. In a way, because Tom had made his decision, he'd forced mine. I suppose I could sell Betsy, but there was an obvious benefit to trade and barter and she gave the means to give it an honest go. I decided to head to the market in the morning. I'd take my brahmin and set up shop, if there seemed a good location. Then we would see. I was really glad I'd completed my planned errands. Unlike Tom, I felt tired, probably from the crying. I decided sleep would be a good idea, even if it were a little early.

So I took care of a few things, made sure Betsy was comfortable and secure in our stall/housing then (with a pistol snugged between the mattresses where I could reach it quickly) I went to sleep.

I dreamed terrible dreams, ones where I was awake, but could not wake up. Nightmare sized scorpions, which changed into strange, gigantic vehicles and then into strange multi-limbed aliens chased me through thunder and lightning storms and oddly beautiful, if desolate, landscapes. I felt shockwaves roll through me with each crack of light and I kept thinking, "If I'm dreaming, why does this hurt?" And then the voices started, sounding like a thunderstorm combined with a waterfall with each shock to my system.

When I managed to wake up it was dark, the air was still, there was no actual storm and I was drenched in sweat. I staggered to the head, took a moment to take care of the necessary, and then went back out to use the water pump by Betsy's trough to wash myself down. Body modesty wasn't a concern at that point, so much as getting the sweat off and cooling down. I felt much better when I put on a fresh shirt and shorts. And then I washed the clothes I'd had on.

By the time I was done and my laundry hanging from an available rafter, I felt more settled and was will to try sleeping again, just to get myself to morning. The dreams were even worse and even weirder. So weird, I could only vaguely remember color, but nothing concrete otherwise. But this time, when I woke up, felt invigorated and lighter of heart.

I considered that my mind must have just been working out what I'd been through and decided to just chalk it up to dreams being weird. I could see the sky was brightening and so decided that it was a good time to give a try to this whole bartering thing. I stood up and that's when a whole heap of memories of far too much hit me, and, as if it had been Thor's Hammer smacking into me, I was lifted off the floor and slammed back into the wall with the force of it. Fortunately, I had the bed to slide back down to.

This time, my state of unconsciousness held no dreams at all.

==Vaulted==

When I woke up again, a short time later, my perceptions of the world had changed drastically. Where before, I had to look at my pip boy to check time, now if I blinked and thought about it, I could see a clock/counter to my left. I noted two bars, one with red hearts and one with blue stars, just underneath the clock. In the top middle was the title, 'Benjy's - Sweet Haven - SR 3'; Benjy's being the stable/motel for merchants and 3 being the room number. As I glanced at things within my room, small labels popped up, informing me about the objects around me. They were all familiar items and I knew already had the blueprints for things like "table, chairs, bed," so all those labels faded to invisibility rapidly.

A news scroll began rolling quickly, informing me of all the changes, including the syncing of the pip-boy to my neural network. That caused me to immediately look at my arm. The glove was there, and I could read the display correctly, but the inner Heads Up Display (HUD) changed and suddenly I was looking at the usual format of the pip-boy overlaying my vision. Okay, setting fixes needed, immediately. I needed to see the world around me.

It took me a moment to work it out, but eventually I could see the world in color again, including my pip-boy. It flickered to a new screen without me having to thumb the control at all. Weird, but not entirely unexpected, considering.

One side effect was that I was now aware of Laika's return. Laika was my rather special and optimized multi-purpose outfit/armor. She started out as the AI of a set of very powerful mystical armor gained in one of my early jumps, which had been contaminated by the molecular supersuit I'd gained in one of my later jumps, which later was co-joined with my Kamui from another jump after that. The Kamui, being a living thing, had essentially tried to eat that armor and my closet full of very valuable clothes and other armors and heroic costumes. Then my nanoswarm went after the Kamui and it all got co-opted and integrated. Now, if someone asked me what Laika was, I couldn't really say. She was technically a shape-changing symbiote life fiber nano-suit. And, she was essentially a part of me, who was also a shapeshifter and had been since I'd become a Builder during one of my jumps. Yes, one of those. I even have the Mastery certificate and an endless supply of legos, which is neither here nor there. The point is that I started off pure human, thought of myself as human, read human to most sensors, but I was technically, well, many things.

While the pip-boy was working correctly and responding to my mental commands, Laika was pouting because she hated it when I wore other clothes than her and so she refused to change my outerwear beyond jeans and a t-shirt. As always, until I re-awakened, wearing ordinary clothes was just how things went. Laika knew this, and it was part of the process that because had integrated with my inner workings, she was brought forth when my "inner" self had re-adapted me enough to wake up in the new jump (usually somewhere in my teens or early twenties) and not before. At which point, Laika 'ate' the clothes I was wearing at that time and put herself it its place. Still, in the scheme of things, she wasn't being entirely disagreeable, just grumpy. I could probably get her to provide a better outfit later. Meanwhile, my new pip-boy library and the merchant guild map had been adapted into my neural-storage system without flaw and really, that was more important.

That said, re-awakening hurt, because I had to integrate a lot of memories and physical transitions all at once; and not even *all* of the memories, just a great hunk of them. The rest would be integrated over the course of the following month, in smaller, less crippling (one might hope, as that statement wasn't always true) increments.

It took me awhile to notice the message light blinking in my HUD, but when I did, I mentally tapped it open and read the note from the goddess who had started me on the chain toward my eventual planeswalker spark. Technically speaking, I already had godly sparks from different worlds, just not the *one," that I was originally after.

After 133 jumps, you get to know a person and the goddess and I got along famously. Usually I jumped to new universes and worlds for the joy of it, but sometimes she and I bounced off each other. I had a few problems with this jump in particular, because I hated the original limitations placed on the scenario. I tried to keep in mind, some people preferred immersive experiences. I preferred out-of-context overpowered problem solving myself; to me that was what made jumping so incredibly fun. But as I read the note, I was reminded that I'd promised I would at least attempt to play in the spirit of the jump.

I grunted and rolled my eyes a bit, but, sure. I remembered our conversation, and had intentions and blah, blah, blah. How long I managed to stay "in spirit" would depend entirely on my experiences in the local environment. But I did have some good grounding in this universe that would help. There was a reason I did not just drop in like I usually do. My youngest self was still being overwhelmed by the integration process, but she was still "here," and still me, and thus I still had the emotional and mental connections to this world. I was still upset about yesterday and being left alone, if a lot less panicky about it. After all, I had options; some really good ones too.

I glanced at the stack of goods near the table and considered what to do next. Then I grinned. It was time to bring some of that out of context problem solving to bear.

==Vaulted==

It was still very early morning when I stared at what was left of the robot in the stall. Someone had just left it there. Apparently, someone had yanked its power supply with brute force, which meant it no longer had a fusion device to power it up. The port was torn up and I could see the robot was missing a few vital parts. Still, it was now technically mine, according to the guild, simply because it had been left in the stall. That was a premise of if you leave it, the next shopkeeper gets to sell it, use it or keep it; also known as finders keepers. I wasn't displeased. I could work at fixing and shining up the robot after I was done setting a few other things to rights. It would give me something to do while I waited for customers. Since I was at the far, far end, being the new gal, it might be awhile before I actually saw people anyhow.

Without thinking much about it, I levitated the robot to a worn looking table, then I turned to look at the rest of the stall. It was decrepit and empty, and pretty much gave a sense of ongoing transience. It even had wheels staked to the ground, as if the guild just rolled this thing out whenever someone new popped by.

I checked my inventory; not the packages I'd brought into the stall, but my personal hammer-space inventory. I had access to my warehouse as well, so I actually had access to goods that had not been seen on this world in a while, if at all. But I intended to sell the local goods I'd acquired first, to fix up the robot, then set up the food/water purifier and get that running for a bit of supplementary income, and then to sell a few unique items that might improve someone's living conditions, such as pretty cloth bolts, fun little boxes and statues, working flashlights, spices, herbs, food (both as fresh food and as quick lunch items), armor and weapons. The armor and weapons were buffed with "pluses," and so would benefit someone a bit more than the average type. I included swords, bows and knives, but also had modern weapons too. I'd been to so many worlds I had more than enough weapons to sell, this didn't include all the loot I gained from dungeoneering of which there were innumerable amounts of awesome to share. The differing kinds of goods was the reason I requested a general store sign, so I wasn't limited to one thing or the other. I might be at the end of the line, but I was going to be the most versatile and valuable, if I could manage it.

After peeking around, I made sure no one was looking, which, no, of course not. Things had yet to get started really. Betsy mooed at me. She had made herself comfortable by the water trough, which was under the shade tree. I thought that was pretty awesome and it tipped me in favor of Sweet Haven by quite a bit. They treated service animals well, and that said a lot about the kind of people the settlement had. Benjy had said he'd send a stable-kid to return her to the stall after breakfast, which was helpful.

I got to work at repairing and upgrading my stall. I had several methods I could use, but many of my favorites harked back to my days in the Sim and Harry Potter universes: A simple evanesco followed by repairo, could do amazing things. Then there was Beautificus Locus, The Restoration Ritual, and Magical Upgrade. I adored those spells. You could do so much with them.

This didn't even start on what I could do if I hunkered in and got serious. But I wanted to hold off on accessing those powers and abilities until I had a better feel for the world. Still, a quick set of cleaning, repairing and beautifying spells, hey. That was an easy choice.

So, with just the smallest of efforts, suddenly the shelves were aligned and the room in the stall expanded. Then I suddenly had an actual locking door on the back. Then front shutters closed and locked properly. Then, as the magic washed over the stall, the inside walls were painted a nice bright white, and non-annoying lights both inside and outside in strategic locations on the stall appeared. The tall chair by the service window refreshed its cushion, while the back, support stem and wheels were restored. A new ancient-looking, but functional, fridge for cold storage and ice appeared, and it hummed pleasantly in the background. Seconds later, there was a new counter with a sink that had a drain. By the sink, a small table-top grill and hotplate came into being, so I summoned some pots and pans from my inventory and put them onto some loops. I added five bread drawers and upgraded them with a stay-fresh spell, which I accidently overpowered, which caused bread to instantly appear.I decided not to worry about it, because it was useful. But then I added a bread slicer, a teapot, and some condiment dispensers. I'd figure out what to do for sandwich fillings later.

Meanwhile, the magic continued to work as it fixed the shack into something surprisingly presentable. The original countertop, where customers would be served, was suddenly level and polished. The general store sign brightened and straightened out, as did the roof providing shade. In fact, the roof above was completely finished, leaving no holes for rain to seep through. The weathered boards that formed the outer walls, locked more firmly together, deleting all openings, save the service window and another shuttered window for air circulation, before being covered with a new dark stain to cover up the patchiness some. The outside might still look a little weather punched, but now the stall looked cared for and more put together. Even the chalkboards on the service shutters looked nicer. I conjured some chalk and then noted open times on one chalkboard and basic prices on the other.

After that bread drawer thing, I deliberately underpowered most of the magical upgrade, so it wouldn't cause shelves to stock automatically, though Items would stay fresh on them, or the sink to offer miracle cure water. I didn't know who else might use the stall after me, so I had opted for cautious. But the water did run hot and cold, and clean and pure. The only problem was there was no evidence of where the water was coming from or where the draining liquids might be going to. Oh well. Mysteries were good for the soul. Right?

Oddly, the working sink didn't make my water purifier redundant. It made it more valuable. Sweet Haven's water supply was clean, which is why I had no problem using it, but people came in with their own water supplies from wilds all the time. Melinda had mentioned that a purifying station in a stall always made caps. I cast a spell on it later, when I started fixing it up, so it would stay operational and clean. That way I wouldn't have to constantly pull filters and fix clogs.

When I was done with upgrading the market stall and my basic equipment, I pulled my toolbox out of my inventory and set that by the robot. Then I began stocking the shelves, taking my time to do it right. Maybe by the time I was done, I'd get my first customer.

==Vaulted==

It was well past mid morning before my stall was even visited, but that was okay. I was able to get started on the robot and tinkering always gave me a warm feeling of contentment. Plus, it was nice to see the Mr. Handy come alive. Truthfully, I love robots. Adore them. Once they're programmed right, they are godsends and if you treat them right, they love you back and it shows. They may not always be cuddly, but loyalty is its own special form of good puppy.

Reginald, I decided, was awesome, though I knew I wasn't going to call him that all the time. Reggie was more my speed. He would get used to it. Mr. Handy's were robotic helpers of immense versatility. They had fully functional AI, could act independently, but were generally and genuinely programmed to be helpful. Thus, they were ultimate butlers, managers, guardians, nurturers and handymen. And that wasn't the limit to their abilities, just some basic descriptors.

I'd replaced Reggy's fusion core with something that would last far longer and was more "earth" friendly. Doing so meant I had to tweak his levitation gear a bit so it was less fire and more pulse, but the result was that he floated soundlessly, aside from his few beeps and chirps, beside me. So it was totally worth it. I also on a whim, dropped a few maintenance nanos into him, just to make sure he endured and remained functional. They'd likely update and polish him on the go, as they were wont to do. Finally, once I'd been added in as his sole owner and the security settings fixed, I added in a rather in-depth upgrade to his AI, apps and content. I figured, if he was gonna float with me, he was gonna need to be on my level.

Surprisingly repairing Reggy had another beneficial side effect; more business. I'd gained an audience when I wasn't selling, as when customers finally started showing, they paused to look at goods and prices, but stopped to watch me set Reggy and the food and water purifiers to rights. I had people ask me if I could repair some small thing or another, which, of course, I could. I would have thought they had repair shop here, given the success of their settlement, and maybe they did, but I guess demonstrations matter. By lunch bell, I had sold a lot, but I was busier repairing things like hotplates and radios. So I had Reggie do the selling instead.

After lunch bell, I restocked with all new items, none of which had come from this world, but all of which fit the theme. I had things like clean blankets, clothes, pillows, perfume, lanterns, various ease-of-living camping gear, extra pots and pans, tableware, and other useful sundries. Even though I never got around to cooking, the stored food items had been very popular, so I added more. I included such things as massive cheese wheels, jars of preserves, canned glass jars of green beans or corn, bags of dried beans, rice, wheat, and other items that were obviously "hand preserved," but shelf friendly. I sold Betsy's milk early in the day, but made a mental note to save tonight and tomorrow morning's pull for sale later, as apparently brahmin milk was a high demand item due to its strong nutritious properties and special capabilities of being able to completely clean a person of radioactivity naturally and without being horrible about it. Plus, people just liked how it tasted.

I knew that because I found local "how-to" books, which included home remedies and commonly "known," information about the world when I had Reggy watch the shop for a bit. It was nice to know that literacy still had a place in the world, but even nicer to know that someone had been taking note of the practical things. Information is power, after all.

My short walk around took me by the bar and I reminded myself to include some nectars and spirits that might also help increase the locals health and wellbeing, as well as provided some nice things to imbibe. Including such would make a nice final evening sale, I thought.

I went back to my little stall and noticed Melinda standing by the back door, looking a bit disbelieving. I had a moment's pause, but when she spotted me, she smiled widely, so maybe things weren't too bad. I peeked around to note that while there wasn't a huge line, Reggy was still handling things well and then looked back at my unexpected guest.

"Looks like you haven't done too badly for a first day," the guildmaster said, taking a seat on the stair step leading to the back door. I sat down beside her.

"Not too badly," I affirmed. "Better than I expected actually." I cleared my throat, covering my mouth with my fist as I coughed in preface to speaking. Then I let my hand drop to show that I was being open about things. "I haven't made a final count, yet," I said, referring to the tenth that she was likely expecting.

She waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. You obviously did some mighty heavy lifting on fixing up this stall. Surprised you could get this much done in a day. It's very impressive, but I guess you're young, and obviously capable. We'll count this upgrade towards the full tenth for the next two months. That seem fair?"

"Fair, wow. Yes. Though, I can explain, a little..."

"No, really, it's good. I like the changes." She smiled a bit wider, like she found something funny. "But, there's a consequence. Mr. Butters, our general store man, he's real unhappy that he's got his stall, while you've got this." My gaze narrowed, but I kept my peace, as she wasn't finished. "Which means, it's probably not a good idea to leave anything behind tonight."

Oh. Politics. But at least I got a fair warning. "Nice of you to mention."

"Not a problem. You'll find a new stall here tomorrow, or rather an old one. Given your Mr. Handy, I reckon you can clear out tonight fairly easy?" She asked.

I blinked at her, wondering how they were going to manage moving the stall, but then realized, it fell under none-my; as in none of my business. "Sure. We'll take care of it. I was thinking the stock was getting thin anyhow."

"So you're here…"

"Maybe another day? I expect to have my stock completely gone by mid-afternoon the latest, if things go like today."

"Mm." She nodded, kicking her foot on the step a little. Then she said, "In that case, depending on how well you fix up the next stall, we'll make it six months to a year on the tenths." Meaning, if I could produce another miracle she'd be very impressed. I admit to being surprised she wasn't questioning me more about how I did it, but maybe you learned not to do that sort of thing around here. Maybe it wasn't that unusual. I had no idea. Still, she continued, so I gave up my mental perambulations, "Either way, we'll mark your discount in your guild-pass so you can take advantage of it in the guild towns. Mind coming by before you head out of town? I'll put out word. That might get you some goods to sell and there may be packages to deliver, if you don't mind playing courier, as well."

"I could work with that," I said. "Think I ought to make nice with Mr. Butters?" I asked with some caution. I didn't know how important the shopkeeper was in the scheme of things, but I really didn't want anyone gunning for me unnecessarily.

"Well, given how easy you're taking things, I wouldn't worry. Normally, he's pretty open minded. It's just he thought he had an understanding with the guild and all. Still, might not hurt to consider a little trade with him."

"Tell you what, hold on a moment…" I stood up and entered the stall, then did some obvious digging around, while I made an inventory summons. I pulled a box of six hand labeled spiced wine bottles out and box of 6 similarly hand labeled jars of molasses. I put them, one at a time, on the step beside the guild master. "I was saving these for my last sale, but what if I give you this, with the understanding that you'll pick what you want for yourself and the guild and give what you think is right to Mr. Butters to smooth the way for me?" I hefted one of the molasses jars. "Radioactive free, guarantee."

She grinned at me. "The guild appreciates your support, July."

==Vaulted==

Night had well and truly fallen by the time I considered spending time being sociable at the bar. I realized however, that I was ready to settle down. I didn't need a lot of sleep, but I did need some and I liked relaxing and it had been a long day. So Reginald waited while I fetched Betsy, then we made a big to-do of packing things away again, including the food and water purifier, though I left the cooking gizmos and the fridge. There wasn't a need to be petty. I left with the packs looking much thinner than when I started. When I got back to the stables, we just as obviously unpacked. I set Reggy to guard and then settled in to read the various books I'd purchased.

I suppose, looking back on it, and given the fresh feed in Betsy's stall and the appreciative smile from Benjy, I should have been grateful I'd been allowed to keep my stall. I made a mental note to leave a handful of caps for a tip for the stable-kid and for Benjy.

I read quickly, not skipping anything, but I could speed through stacks of books when I had them and this was a mere handful. But they were useful and interesting, so I was glad I read them. I now knew how to make several kinds of healing products, and some recreational. I also knew a bit more of the history that had passed after the war. It wasn't an extensive history, but it was something and gave me clues about how the world was recovering; which was slowly. So very slowly.

It was amazing what determined people could accomplish though. If nature continued to evolve, so did civilization, from vault-based towns, to cities that had survived the bombings and some that simply grew from one person's vision. There were tribes that wandered and people who worshiped the bomb. The Brotherhood both worshiped and feared technology, while mad scientists pushed boundaries.

It was an interesting and dangerous world, but one filled with potential too.

It gave me much to think about, and a part of my thoughts pursued that trail, while the other contemplated the niggling awareness that I had forgotten something important. But even that wasn't that odd a sensation. Technically, I had a perfect memory, a photographic memory, but the mind was a funny thing, prone to making or adjusting connections based on emotional as well as personal importance. Plus, I was still reawakening. It was always a bit of a frustrating time. I decided to sleep on it and see what revelations the morning brought.

==Vaulted==

I wasn't even fully awake when I got out of bed, tromped to the door and opened it just before the stable-kid was about to knock. The young girl was surprised, but recovered pretty well. "Guildmaster needs you," she said. "Matter of urgency."

I blinked at her, glanced outside at the still-dark morning. "Now?"

The girl nodded. Really, I needed to learn her name at some point. "Yes'm."

"Okay. I'll be there in a bit. You have successfully delivered the message."

And then I was alone, as she skedaddled away.

With a thought my pajamas changed into something attractive, but sturdy; jeans, shirt, leather jacket as a respect to the cool of the morning. I'd put the majority of my belongings in inventory, so I didn't have to worry about that. I spoke to Reggie about guarding things while I was away and taking care of Betsy. I gave him some more clean jars to fill and checked the ice chest. It was still very cold. The spell to keep things chilled was working great. I grabbed two of the smaller jars of milk that had been stored from last night and headed to the guild.


	3. Chapter 3

Fallout: Vaulted - Jump 133 Part 3

My world shifted on the way to the guild, not in the way of walking, but rather I had another re-integration flash through me as I was heading there. The only reason I didn't drop the milk is that my natural, practically automatic, telekinesis kicked in hard, and the jars were levitated while I took a moment to clutch my head. Since it was way before dawn's light, no one really saw this, but I sure felt it.

"Oh, I just love this so much," I whimpered to myself. A sarcastic affirmation is still an affirmation and I believed in staying positive. Usually.

I was still dazed and processing when I finally made it to the guild. I nodded at the guard who tilted his head in return. He let me in with nary a word, but with an odd glint in his eyes. The guard on the inside looked up from his magazine. An eyebrow rose and he looked as if he thought he might say something, but then he just jerked his head in the direction of Melinda's office. A lurch-like groan on my part served as a greeting. I at least waved, though I kept moving. The milk bottles trailed behind me without me having to think about it. I'd actually kind of forgotten I had them for a moment, though I constantly knew they were there on a certain level.

When I entered the office I saw Melinda, who was deep in conversation with someone. This other person was fully kitted out in leather gear, from hat to coat to slacks. He was holding a professional looking rifle, an old one though, and I could tell he was packing other weapons. My HUD identified them for me and I filed that information away for later use if I needed it. His voice was deep and pleasant. It was oddly soothing for my head, like the voice of an announcer on the old sport recordings that used to put me to sleep when I was a kid.

The door closed behind me with a little thump. Telekinesis again. That was likely to be a thing from now on. Usually, I could control it, but I decided I wasn't going to worry about it unless someone said something.

"Oh hey," Melinda turned as if she'd just noticed me, "Here you are…" Her words slid a bit to the weirded out side, and her eyes widened, but she recovered pretty quickly. I looked down at myself and noted I was still in Tee and Jeans, so at least Laika was cooperating. Good. So I figured the most likely candidate for that reaction was probably an eye thing. Sometimes they lit up, usually blue, but sometimes gold, if I wasn't careful. Heck, half of my shapeshifting self's job was to make sure that I still looked human-average normal, but sometimes the eyes slipped. I think it's because I subconsciously thought it was cool, even when I knew it threw people off.

I mentally worked at ensuring that my eye color was the original July color, but winced as I did it, because ow. Yep. That was probably what was causing the odd looks.

And, since it didn't do to be rude… "Hey." I responded and looked around for a chair or something. Worse case, I could use the telekinesis to form a sort of chair, but more likely I'd conjure one for appearance sake. Then I saw a couple of those steel folding chairs by the wall. I summoned one over, desperately needing to sit down. When the steel framed chair got to my hand I swiveled it so it was facing Melinda's desk, telekinetically popped it open and got ready to sit. Then I remembered the milk and I thought to look at the stranger.

That's when I noticed his face and this time I was the one who paused and likely had a strange, surprised expression. Not that he reacted or anything. He likely got this a lot.

His face. Poor guy. Or maybe that was rude. I didn't know. But his face, and likely a good portion of his body, was a hash of scars and healed wrong wounds. His skin looked as if his insides had tried to be on his outsides and was a mix of harsh red and pale whites. His eyes were clear and bright, though, and his teeth looked very sharp. His ears were a touch pointed. I realized that this was one of those famed, long-lived people, the ghouls.

My younger self had never seen anything like it. My older self had, which was why I was able to bite my tongue before wrong, undiplomatic words got said. Instead of asking about his incredible scars, I said, "Oh. Lucky I brought two."

I grabbed the jars that floated by me and held them out in Melinda's and the stranger's direction. "Some of Betsy's give from last night. Kept them in the cooler. Thought you might like some."

Melinda tilted her head and narrowed her eyes a bit, as if she were assessing the situation, then she righted herself and deliberately, carefully, took one of the jars. "I knew you were something special July." That's when the stranger took the other jar of milk.

I finally, finally collapsed onto the chair in a technically successful sitting position and dropped my head into my hands for a moment. The cool leftover from the jars was still on my palms and that felt really good, but it caused me to groan softly. "This sucks. Hurry up and adapt body," I said.

"You alright there, July?" Melinda inquired.

"Yes. It'll pass pretty quick, but my head feels awful right this moment. Go ahead and talk if you want. It'll be just a second or two and then I'll be okay."

"Sorry you're feeling peaked. But glad you came anyway." Melinda soothed.

I hummed and let my eyes close a moment. I heard the sound of another chair being dragged over, and leather shifting as the guy sat down. Then I heard the cap of a jar being twisted and popped open, and the other one too. A moment later there was a soft feminine sigh of pleasure, which made me smile.

Then there was a deeper hum. The stranger said, "Good," in a way that meant thank you.

"You're welcome," I said. Then, risking light to my eyes again, I lifted my head.

That wasn't too bad.

I looked at Melinda, who was still contently drinking. "Okay. I'm betterish. So, why am I here?"

The guildmaster said, "You recall our conversation last night?"

"Yep."

"And how you were maybe going to fix up the stall, like you did Mr. Butter's place?"

I nodded. "Sure."

"Well, I'd like to put that to the side for another day. Chris here has a request from Shady Places and you're the only mobile guild member we have in town at the moment."

I forced myself to straighten up. The headache had passed fairly quickly, as I'd mentioned, and I felt less like I'd been wrung through a wringer, but I had a lot of new sensations tickling my awareness. I felt a tingle in my palm and put the apple that appeared in my hand on Melinda's desk.

Ah, that was back online.

I had a bunch of abilities that combined into a straight out power to summon or create food of pretty much any kind, though when I was human shaped, it was usually mostly snack oriented; though I could push the nutrition when I wanted too. So many influences came into play here, from my time as a Royal Ant to my Zerg self, to a few other more human situations, such as when I was a very influential convention guest.

Wow, that was a long time ago. I was practically a kid then.

Anyhow, this power, like my semi-random infinite item pocket was often very useful once I got things under control, but the onset in a new environment could be in turns hilarious, nifty, scary annoying and provocative and not necessarily in that order. At least this was just the food. Very interesting things happened on the first day when the infinite pocket situation got going. Though because I had long ago concluded that luck was an important thing for a jumper to have, it was usually something helpful to me. That is, depending on how focused I was when I reached for a mystery item. It helped to be in the right mental space for that sort of thing. Otherwise… well…, as I said, first days could be interesting.

Fortunately Laika had taken to keeping that particular pocket on my left, so I wouldn't just accidentally grab things, because better safe, than sorry. The right pocket was for my inventory and alternate space needs. The left was for the crazypants stuff.

Though, if this food thing was any indicator, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

I was actually impressed that neither Melinda nor the stranger were reacting to these random happenings around me, but this is what you get when you have an ability or two that help people to treat strange things as normal. Plus, this was the guild and guilds often had very useful rules, such as, what happened in Melinda's office would stay in her office, unless otherwise noted. Though I anticipated she might ask after some fresh stock now and then, now that she knew it was possible. Though I could fib, I suppose and make her think it was a one time only thing.

Nah. She had been good to me. I could be good in return. As far as revelations go, this was pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things and I wasn't too worried.

So I asked, as I put an apricot by the apple, "Why so early? I mean, sure, I'm willing, but couldn't you have told me this when the sun was up?"

Melinda eyed the apple.

I said, "Go ahead, I got at least a few minutes before I get this under control again. It's a consequence of … well, it's too long to explain, but let's just say I got some unusual abilities and I just turned sixteen and I'm just recently coming into my deeper well of power and this stuff is just going to happen for like a month. Because this is my life now," Was that a whine? No, teen-self, no whining. I tried to get a grip.

"Nevermind. It's not really important, just a hassle from my point of view. Point is, the fruit is the real deal and safe to eat. Might as well take advantage of this… side effect… while it's lasting. Should be done soon. Rarely lasts more than five or ten minutes. It just seems long from my point of view. At least it is something good this time." I shrugged sheepishly as I put another apricot down. Melinda was looking more and more amused, as opposed to consternated, which was kind of a good sign, right?

Then I remembered something that might be useful. "Oh, and you might save the seeds. They aren't tainted, so you can plant 'em and they'll grow." Melinda's brows rose way high at that statement and she grabbed the apple, turning it around in her hand and sniffing it a bit. I set a peach by the two apricots. This time it was me sighing and groaning, but not in the yay kind of way. It was more in a dolorous, teenage, put upon way, as I laid a banana by the peach.

Melinda's lips firmed and twitched as I could see she was trying not to laugh and not to ask a million questions. She slid a glance at Chris, who somehow seemed even sterner than he was before, though he didn't seem angry; another good sign. His expression seemed to help the guild leader regain her composure.

She put the apple down, closer to herself and her expression turned serious. "Chris has need to be out of town fair-quickly. The package the doc has fixed up for Chris' people needs to get there as soon as possible. He's a guild agent and he'll be going as a bodyguard for the items we'll be sending, along with a couple of his friends, but the whole kit is going to be large enough that your Betsy would come in handy and save everyone a lot of time and effort."

"Ah," I said, as I laid a Granny Smith Apple on the desk. I was starting to get a feel forthe power again, and I managed a tweak. My palm flexed and the next item was a Chocolate Debbie Snack Cake, which Chris grabbed so fast, that I almost missed seeing it entirely. His speed was phenomenal, but my eyes were good now, really good. The sound of a crinkling wrapper being dismantled blended with my commentary. "Care Package run. Sure, we can do that. You need me to head to the clinic with Betsy, or is the package here?"

Melinda snagged the Hostess Twinkies that next popped into my hand before I even put it on the desk. She wasn't quite as quick as Chris, but it was quite a respectable speed for a regular person. She opened the package, took a bite of the yellow cake and moaned happily. Then she took a drink of milk and smiled very contentedly after, before saying, "Doc's got someone to bring it over in about a half hour. Likely he or she will be a medic to go along with you. Is a half hour going to be enough time for you to get packed up and ready to go?"

I was again, impressed, because she didn't even ask if I'd be done with all this magical food nonsense, which meant she was trusting me when I said it would be done soon. Another peach, another apple, two chocolate bars and sundry other random treats were placed in a neat row. The items were coming faster, but I could feel my control improving. Then a tall, fresh box of Sugar Bombs, one of the local universe's popular sugary cereals, got set on the desk.

Oh, now we were cooking. The cereal was followed by two more fruits and a local candy bar and then… then I had it. My power had finally tuned itself to this world. I could summon from any world I had been to, but now I had access to what this world had available too. A few bags of different kinds of nuts, a few snack cakes, a few meat strip packs, a bunch of random chip packages and, finally, a full six pack of cold nuka-colas were set on Melinda's desk. And that was it. I held my hand out for a second or three and nothing.

"Oh thank goddess, that's done," I groaned. "Usually I'm at home or in private when this kind of stuff happens, so I'm sorry for weirding you out, if I did." This time it was me who snagged a goodie and a drink. I sat back on the chair, relaxing a bit, even as I felt a few other tingles of different powers rolling through and adjusting. But at least now I wasn't visibly presenting a huge conundrum that these people had to politely ignore. "Thanks for letting me borrow your desk." I offered. Then I answered her question, "Yes. I can do it. Anything important I need to know? I mean, I guess Chris here is going to be my guide, so the direction part is probably taken care of."

Melinda said, "Just that the sooner you can get to Shady Places, the better. But I can't send you off without warning you." She glanced at Chris who nodded, then said, "They've got a bit of a situation going on. Raiders have been hitting the settlement hard enough to do some real damage. But we established a guild hall there early on, so they're under our banner; or at least Chris and the local guild members are. That said, given the raids, Shady Places is lacking pretty much everything now and they got loads of wounded to boot. Just getting the goods to them will help a lot."

Then she leaned forward and spoke earnestly, "Though I suspect, you got some ways of helping that others might not, which is good. I get you may have some control issues now and so it's making things a bit visible than one might want." She gave a half a laugh, "And we all know all the rules got shunted out with the bombs, but there's no reason not to be careful, right? I know other magic users can be flashy, but no need to get cocky right? So you try to be wise as you go out in the world. We'll help where we can. Which, reminds me. You have some info to update. Need to fix that." Melinda held out her hand.

I admit I blinked, probably a lot, because holy Merlin, was that a twist I wasn't expecting. I was trying to form the questions, but but she said, "Got your pass?" And I realized she was waiting on me.

I dug out my pass from my pocket, via a bit of inventory shift and handed it to her. "Thanks for the warning about the raiders." I said I looked at Chris. "I'll make sure Reggie's flames are piping hot."

The man flashed a grin at me, it was surprisingly uncreepy, despite the fangs.

Melinda started writing, a lot; took up a whole page and a half. Then she pulled out a couple of stamps and pounded those on a couple of sheets. Then she made a few more notations and finally handed the passbook to me.

I started to flip it open, since I was curious, but she said, "Read that later. But the summary is, you're registered as a guild mage and agent, which will give you some protections and responsibilities. Chris can get you up to speed on that while you travel. You'll be able to get into a few new places with your pass now, places it sounds like you've never seen and really should. You have a modest amount of authority to act on our behalf. Do what you need to do to uplift and protect the guild and its members, including yourself. We'll back you. Not only that, I listed out your two months' grace on the tenths. I hadn't forgotten." This time I was the one who looked shocked, but not for long.

"You sure about this?" I didn't want to mention my age again, but really, this was kind of big.

She nodded firmly at me. "We don't know what you'll be facing, but a little pro-activeness never hurt. It helps that you've shown trust in us, so I figure we return the favor. So yeah."

Okay then. I put the pass safely in my inventory. It was way more valuable than caps now. Then I vanished the bag of chips, because that was just trash, left the soda bottle on her desk, because that would be useful to her, but pocketed the nuka-cola cap, because it was cash now and I'd already given the guild a bunch of free stuff. "How long is this journey going to take?"

"Two days, if we stop overnight. A day and a half if we don't."Chris replied. He'd snagged a bunch of the packaged food that was on the desk, only leaving a few items, including the Sugar Bombs and two nuka-colas. He tucked the food and soda somewhere. I didn't see where he put it all and Melinda didn't comment on that bit of harvesting, so I didn't either. Maybe I wasn't the only one with hammer-space. If they were accepting of magic, anything was possible.

I said, "We'll need to take breaks for Betsy, since she's our carrier. But she's had a good rest, so she may be up for an overnight run. I got a few tricks that might make things speedier. Wouldn't be instant or anything, but we could cut a little more time. I'd offer to do the, uh, teleportation options, but I'm not sure I'd trust me with that right now. We'd likely end up… not where we're supposed to go and I'd hate for anyone to suffer because I messed up."

Chris' smile was still genuine, even as he nodded understandingly. "A bit more speed would be helpful indeed, if you can. No worries on the teleport. I wasn't expecting it."

Melinda added, "Brahmin are durable and reliable, thankfully. Back when I was a traveling merchant, my Star could make two overnights in a pinch. And believe it or not, we get it. I got kin who got your kind of gifts, and so does Chris, which is why we know things. My cousin explained why people have to be careful with travel of the magical sort ages ago; had to do with wonked out magnetic fields and ley lines and such. No worries. A bit of speed might help, but if you aren't up for it, manage with what you've got. It's okay. It's more than what we had, after all."

She set her empty jar down and patted her tummy in satisfaction, though she eyed the Sugar Bombs with some speculation. Then she grinned. "If you'll bring the rest of the milk, when you return for the goods, the guild will buy it."

I chuckled. Honestly, I'd do the same. "Awesome. I'll throw in the cooler for free." I could always make another one.

"You're either the best business woman I've met, or the very worst."

I laughed pretty hard as I left the office.

==Vaulted==

As I walked to the stables, I contemplated how a half an hour in another jump would be more than enough time to turn the world upside down. That is, if I were to take advantage of it and hole up in an extra-dimensional time-shifted plane for awhile. It wasn't entirely out of the question, but I had already set up, or rather, the Goddess had already set up this scenario where I was in a jump where magic users existed and where any random weird stuff that happened to me or whatever, was explainable as "well, she's sixteen and going through phases…" That was amusing and odd. I hadn't expected that in a Fallout scenario, but looking back, I realized it was in the realm of possibility, not just not expected likelihood.

The question was now that I knew, what kind of magic users and did they have a community? I was incredibly curious, but no where close enough with people to actually ask. But maybe I could pose a few questions to Chris on the way to Shady Places. Might make for nice conversation even.

Speaking of people and good conversation, where were my jump companions? I know they were coming with me. Then again, this world, in fact, any world, was a large place. They could literally be anywhere, doing whatever they were needing to do to get acclimated and situated. At some point, one of my darling family would think to ping me. I tended to let them find me, rather than the opposite way around. This way they had a chance to do their own exploring and whatnot. Plus, they may have attempted earlier and got a "not in residence," right now notice, just because I was my younger self and not yet present. And then there was that whole magnetic forces, ley line thing. Yeah, I suppose an ultimate war would wreak serious havoc on things.

Hmm. Speaking of...I allowed myself to drop into a quick walking meditation. I was still me and I was still July and the I that was July was feeling pretty chipper, actually. Well, she was always pretty upbeat, so good to know I was doing alright. I'd anticipated, when I was first getting ready to jump, that my younger self would be this struggling survivalist, but she hadn't had the chance to become that yet, given that she'd only had a day to have to deal with the wilderness.

Probably for the best. I suspected this world needed upbeat people. Maybe not super Mary Sunshine, mind, but just those not prone to the dours. I let the meditation go, feeling a bit lighter at heart. We could do this thing.

I thought about all the planning I technically could do and shrugged it off. It seemed like playing it by ear was working better for me this go around. Being July was enough for the moment.

By the time I got to the stall, Reggie had the milk capped and packed in the cooler. He also had Betsy packed and ready to go. I considered the option of packing everything into a bag of holding, but realized that appearances still needed to have a bit of play here. So, I left the packing as done and then spent a few minutes upgrading Reggie's defensive and offensive capabilities. Then I ran a cleaning spell and another repair/beautification set on the little room that had been my oh-so-temporary home. Leave it better, I always say.

Then we three, the Brahmin, the Mr. Handy and I, made our way back to the guild.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - I've decided that, since this is more about the practice of writing than accomplishing a particular set chapter length, I'm going to go ahead and stop at what feels like "natural," stopping points rather than shoot for particular lengths. This might make it easier for me to post. We will see. All errors remain my own.

Fallout: Vaulted - Jump 133 Part 4

From a distance, I could see that a small group of individuals had gathered outside the guild. An impressively huge mound of items were already bagged and boxed and stacked. I guess the stuff was mostly ready to strap onto my burly little brahmin. Okay, she wasn't so little, and I intuitively knew that she could absolutely carry all that. She was practically made for loads like this. But wow. So much.

I held an inner debate about what I ought to do, as easing her load too much could be just as damaging in the long term as loading her down too much.

Added to that admittedly tiny conundrum was that the gathered group was a much larger number of people than I expected, given the earlier conversation. I figured that there would be the two from Chris' side and the medic and me. But there were ten people I hadn't seen before, and Melinda and Chris. I felt the stirrings of concern, but it did mean I couldn't really gripe about the pile of stuff, as most of the group were also heavily loaded down, carrying massive rucksacks. Chris was talking with Melinda and two individuals paced about, watching everything attentively, obviously guarding the wares.

One of the guardians greeted me. She was bald and lean, but surprisingly shapely. I had been given to understand that most ghouls were by nature very thin. She was sleek, but it was cat-like rather than meat and bone-like and she wore her leathers very well. She had a surprisingly nice voice too and my thought that she was little more built was confirmed when she bounced on her toes a bit. "Ah, great, you're here! I'm Sophia. As you can see, we're almost ready, but we're waiting on the doc. He forgot a book."

Well, a little extra time wasn't going to hurt. I said, "Oh. Okay." And tallied the number up to eleven travelers. This was likely both a good thing and not. As more people meant more stuff, which was good for the settlement we were visiting. But it also meant there was more possibility of someone seeing or saying something. I wasn't sure where that paranoid thought arose from, but it seemed semi-logical. Then again, as I sometimes told my loved ones, I never claimed to always be rational. People just expect me to be and I often act that way, but that didn't mean I arrived at the answers the way they would.

I decided to ignore the other people for the moment, though not out of rudeness. I had things to do. I said as I continued to lead Betsy close to the pile, "Nice to meet you Sophia." I eyed the large stack and considered how I was going to tackle it. "Anything else I should know?"

"Chris wants to leave pretty quickly, but said to take your time packing the Brahmin right. He'd rather not have to stop because of a loose rope or something."

I nodded and patted Betsy as I considered what I was looking at, "I got a few ideas to keep that from happening. In fact, I'll get started now, if that's okay."

"Do you need any help?" She asked brightly. Any other time, I absolutely would have enjoyed the assistance, but not at the moment.

"I got it," I said confidently. "This won't take too long."

She offered me a skeptical look, but shrugged, turned away and took post again. As soon as she was facing away from me, I stopped the world.

Everything went quiet and still, all motion ceased. Even I paused, taking a moment to take a mental snapshot of where and how I stood. I toed the ground a bit, to set a mark, then I let go of Betsy's lead. It hung in the air as if I still held it.

It was time to make a few changes and choices. First, there was no way I was going to spend a half hour lifting and carrying all that when I had easier ways of loading Betsy down. Second, I had told Chris that I had ways of speeding things up, but we hadn't discussed when to do them. I suspected now was as good a time to take care of at least one option. And finally, I had decided to do something I hadn't done before.

I saved.

Saving, as I understand it, is now a little known skill among multiuniversal jumpers; at least according to the Goddess of my Jump. There had been a conflict in the past and the knowledge was generally lost, though some few of us remembered how. I was one of the fortunate, in that I'd learned the skill before it was banned by a mysterious governing body as forbidden knowledge; which, as I've learned from my time in a few universes is kind of typical. However, just having the skill was ironic, as I'd never used the ability to mark a point in time and designate it as saved in all of my jumps, ever. I kept forgetting to do it, as I was very much an in-the-now kind of personality and even at the worst, and there had been some experiences where I wasn't sure I'd live through it, I never really worried about final outcomes.

Still, at this point, I wasn't really saving for me. I was saving because these people had a need and I did not know how our journey might go. As I observed all the belongings and the generally hopeful expressions, I realized I wanted to see this through. It might not ever be needed, but...

I also wanted to do so at least once and it might as well be now as any other time. I might never do it again, but we ought to try new things in life now and then, right?

Strangely, saving felt physically good as well as emotionally. There was a bit of "flavor," to it and a extrasensory sense, which was oddly recognizable. The "space," (not that there was a literal space) that had been saved felt like an anchored point in time, a point of fate. That was something I recognized from various other nifty experiences in multi-universal places and times. It was a surprisingly interesting sensation, and not just because of the instant sense of security I'd felt. Hello Maslow. Who knew this would fit a hierarchical need.

I suddenly really wanted to talk to a few of my more time-wise and historically inclined companions, both for feedback and wisdom.

But that was not to be, just yet. Soonish, I hoped.

After saving, and wallowing in the feeling of the moment for a bit, I allowed time to restart and strode over to Chris. "I'm going to load up Betsy, but I wanted to give you a heads up that I'm doing it my way. It's gonna go very fast, so don't fret." I didn't give him or Melinda a chance to talk back, because I didn't want them to tell me no. Instead I turned right around and hurried back to Betsy.

"Reggie, I got this. Would you mind setting the cold chest by the guildmaster. She's the woman I was talking with last night and who is standing by the guy I just spoke with.

"I recognize her, July. I will do as you ask." He floated away, holding the box I'd designated a cold chest with two of his strong metal arms.

Once he was gone, I started unloading Betsy. Once I had her unloaded, which didn't take that much time, I bent over as if I were going to begin repacking everything and paused the world again. Then I shuffled my belongings into my inventory. No sense making her carry absolutely everything, even if she could.

I took a moment to really look at Betsy then, as I contemplated the best way to pack things, and considered the idea that a bit of forethought could make things much easier for all of us, but especially me. I realized that the reason we weren't using a wagon was likely that the roads were poor. In another time and place, I'd likely have just gone with laying out a new road. It'd be as simple as pushing out some overpowered reparos as we made our way to wherever. Or building a maintenance shack that would spawn road engineers and the like. But there wasn't really time for that and I wasn't settling here. Yet.

So, a wagon with wheels was out. But that didn't mean we couldn't have a floating flatbed for Betsy that would even the load out, which she could pull. It wouldn't be as traditional as strapping everything in with a bunch of leather and ropes, but it would likely allow for a safer carry of all that planned gear. It took half a minute to transfigure random stones into what I needed, which was basically a covered wagon with a nice protective half-oval roof. It even had a door and sliding ramp in the back. Nice. Then there was the tinkering to make sure it at least held the illusion of being a powered unit. Then there were the runes to make sure that it was all sturdy, stable, floaty, powered with certain utilities and yet still could carry a huge load of items and make it lighter by about twenty to thirty percent. Then there was fitting the harness and sundry gear onto Betsy; especially after I accidentally altered her.

Really, I had been aiming for the trailer, but when one uses magical upgrade, you get what you get. Yes, the flatbed was mightily improved and impressive, as it now had side drawers and windows, but Betsy, who remained a lovely reddish brown, had her horns straightened, realigned and recurved into something a tad more visually appealing. She still had three horns to a head, mind you, and she still had two heads, but everything about her looked less warped and more honed and as if this was how a Brahmin was meant to be.

She was also massive; broader and stronger and she stood on her four hooves like a queen. She wasn't quite "Babe," sized, from myth, but she was no tiny thing either. I guess it happened, because I had an unconscious desire to make her capable of enduring whatever we might face; and, also, because I was still wonky on how I was powering things. I usually had fine control, and it was coming back, but still. Oops?

Then it was a matter of actually doing the repacking, which did not take long at all. Telekinesis for the win! And magic! I got that stuff settled and packed fairly quickly, with enough room left over for more.

No doubt some people would stare once I renewed the time flow, maybe, but one of the reasons I forewarned Chris verbally and in such a way as could be overheard, was that it would put the others in a state to accept things without too much questioning. I let time flow again, went back to Chris and Melinda and patted Reggie affectionately. "Thanks Reg. If you'll go watch over Betsy for a bit, I need to talk with Chris and Melinda."

"As you wish, Ms. July," Reggie said as he floated away.

I turned to Melinda and Chris, ignoring the widened eyes and said, "Okay, so Betsy is ready to go and I know you said, don't be flashy, but…" I lifted my hands and let them flop down. "Couldn't help it. I overshot." I gave them a charming what can you do smile and then said, "When the medic gets here, we should gather in a tight group. And then I can put a speed and security whammy on us as a group. Maybe double our speed? Hopefully only double," I mumbled as I looked back at Betsy.

Chris raised a hand, somehow managing not to sound panicked. "That will be unnecessary. I believe we will make good time as it is."

I rubbed the back of my neck, "If you're sure."

"Oh," Chris said, nodding at his people and obviously thinking on consequences of overpowered speed spells. "I am sure."

==Vaulted==

It wasn't bad. Chris was right that we made good time. Once the the doctor arrived, we left in a semi-organized group, heading south and east. The roads were cracked, but they were a path. We could follow it. We didn't run, but we also didn't slack. Betsy kept up without any problems and Reggie made sure she had food and water. I was introduced to the others piecemeal. Except for the doctor, John Stavros, and I, they were all from Shady Places. Seven of them were ghouls and three were human. I got to know everyone a little better as we traveled, but especially Sophia, who seemed to take a shine to me. Or maybe she was just the bubbly friendly type. It made the walking go by quickly.

About half a day in, we had our first event. Giant mole rats broke through the ground and were shot down like … well… rats. I didn't have to do a thing.

Ghouls, it turned out, are stupidly fast. Amazingly fleet. I had somewhat realized this when I witnessed Chris grab that snack cake, but now I knew it was a thing and not just him. And, apparently, ghouls who still had the capacity to think were dangerously accurate with ranged weapons. The attacking creatures had enough time to yowl, growl, leap threateningly into the air and fall in bloody heaps at our feet.

Okay then.

I made a mental note about not underestimating my new friends.

As promised, we did stop for breaks, where we could take care of personal details as necessary. I made sure the wagon was working well, which it was and that Betsy wasn't being chafed. She seemed to be in good shape and very content. Reggie who was a surprisingly good conversationalist, was also doing well. Excellent.

Those of us who walked on two feet didn't really take breaks just to eat, so there was no one moment when we stopped for lunch or anything. Eating and drinking was something that could be done on the way. Everyone had their own food. And then there was me.

As was my habit, I pulled food and drink from my right jacket pocket just whenever. I noticed Sophia noticing, and she raised her brows at me. So rather than explain, I just shared some of the goods.

Oddly, she said nary a word about it, but she did share some of the random snack packages that I shared with her with the others. That seemed fair. She stuck with me a bit more after that, without seemingly overly obtrusive as a guardian. Chris wandered near us around mid-afternoon and I handed him an Orange Julius, some chips and a chicken sandwich. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

When a longer break was called in the evening we stopped by a small river. The wagon had outside panels that could act as counters, so I pulled one down, set up the Water Purifier, connected it to the power source and switched it on. Dr. Stavros got someone to haul a few buckets of water and the next thing I knew they were filling dozens and dozens of water bottles and flasks and stacking them in the wagon in some of those flattened boxes that had been brought along. Well, that wasn't what I was actually expecting, but okay. My intention had been to let folks refresh their personal supply, which, you know, they did. But I guess Dr. Stavros was taking advantage of the opportunity, which was not necessarily a bad idea, considering. So I helped them.

We were just getting ready leave when I my senses… tingled. Danger. I didn't even think about it. I shoved the good doctor into the wagon before he could actually get too far away and closed the door in his face. Then I locked everything down with a wave of my hand. Then it was a matter of shielding, because Betsy and her Cargo had to be protected, so I made a really good one, digging a full protective circle right into the ground, rune-ing it at high speed. A blue dome of light formed and then went invisible.

Satisfied, I turned and that's when I noticed Sophia, standing right in front of me. She pointed at the circle and said, "How strong is that?"

"Should keep bullets out? And…" I let the ramble drop. "Pretty strong." I nodded. "The bad guys shouldn't be able to get in without a lot of effort."

Sophia whistled and made some hand motions and the next thing I and the other humans knew, we were all in that circle, with the ghouls drawn tightly around us, just outside of it. Then we all heard the bay of hounds and the sound of wild, mocking laughter ringing in the air. Raiders. A lot of them.

Great.

I reminded myself to be mindful. I mentally tagged my current group so they showed up in my HUD as friends and then I scanned the perimeter as I armed myself with a rather large longsword and a pistol.

Yikes. Lots and lots and lots of red dots. Way, way too many to be random. I doubted these raiders were opportunists. These raiders knew who we were, what we had. Someone had planned this. I suddenly understood what Sophia and Chris and their people had been facing. This was organized raiding.

So, we had a kazillian raiders and Sophia had been rather insistent that I "stay," in the circle, but I was kind of feeling insistent that my new friends shouldn't just be out there in the open like this. And then there was the HUD message that flashed by, reminding me about the Spirit of the Jump; meaning that so far I was on track, but don't over do it. So I didn't feel as if I could do the obvious thing and earthbend a quick and dirty fortress.

But I could stop time.

So I did. I realized, I didn't have to do anything truly major, just… thin the ranks. So I squeezed past our guard, and strode into the forested area and did just that. I didn't kill anyone, as that would have left evidence. I merely stunned and transfigured a lot of them into little stone figurines and then stored them in a box of holding. I did not know what I was going to do with them, but I figured I could tuck the box in inventory until I could figure it out. I could always set the survivors on an empty world somewhere. I cut the group down by about half, figuring that would be a much more manageable number for my friends to battle. I still wasn't thrilled that they were essentially out in the open like that. So, I made another circle, one that would allow them to fire through, but would hinder people firing in, and then I set some boobie traps, things that would gum up the works for anyone who made it in past a certain range, but wouldn't automatically endanger my group.

When I was done, I took position again after re-arming myself and let time flow.

You know, I don't think the raiders even noticed that their numbers had been cut. They were just as annoyingly loud.

Then the bullets started flying and the fight was on.


	5. Chapter 5

Fallout: Vaulted - Jump 133 Part 5

I knew something was wrong when I saw one of our defender's crumple after being shot. Then one of the humans besides me keeled over, leaving only myself and two others. I had moved by then, spotting our problem.

The world moved to slow motion as I raised my sword and brought it down, cutting off the betrayer's hand. I likely would have taken Troy's head off, except a part of me remembered we would need to ask questions later. So I stunned him and sealed the wound so it wouldn't bleed out. Then I cast a spell with my gun that shot a bullet which expanded into a net that pinned him to the ground, and called it good. He wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

By that time Laika was well awake and hankering for battle, having tasted blood from the sword. My attention had already wavered from the skirmish and I forced myself to look at the other living human with me in the first circle. She looked shocky. Yeah, that's not good. I said, "Get under the wagon and lay low. I'm gonna set up a cover for you. We don't know if anyone else is in on it."

I was surprised that Pam even took my word for it, but she basically ran and slid under the wagon. That gave me time to assess how my Brahmin was doing, which was pretty well for a crisis, considering. I was surprised at how calm Betsy was being, as I'd fully expected her to be doing a cow version of ducking and covering or something. Reggie had a good grip on her bridle, but she didn't seem to be going anywhere yet, though her eyes were beginning to roll. I cast a calming spell on her and that stopped, because the last thing we needed was a runaway Brahmin. Heck, that's probably what the Raiders were hoping for. I contemplated sticking her feet to the ground, but didn't want her breaking her legs if she tried to fight it.

With that in mind, I sunk the ground as if it were a work shaft elevator going down, so Betsy, Pam and the wagon were less of a target. A little bend of earth here, and the bodies were moved, buried and out of the way, a little bend of earth there, and Pam could pop shot with her pistol if she was feeling the need without getting too high up or leaving the overhead protection of the earth and wagon. The doc, meanwhile, was completely protected in the wagon, along with all the belongings, so I ignored the pounding. I told Reggie to guard them all, something he was doing anyhow, but now it was official.

Laika by now was whispering violently in my ear, urging me out there, out to the cutting and bleeding and the killing. It was very, very hard to ignore. And a part of me seriously considered whether I ought to, because I was playing a certain role in this convoy. A part of me, the aspect I'd gained long ago when I was part of a Fortress team, urgently wanted to kick ass and play boom.

But that train of thought was stalled, when I heard the first round of thunderous electrical forces. It was thoroughly gratifying.

I couldn't help the evil grin when I turned around and saw about twenty raiders caught in a chain-lightning trap. The grin expanded when another five got caught in the exploding bubble gum trap. During that time, Sophia, Chris and the others had gotten into gear and were taking down the raiders at an amazing rate. More loud explosions went off as sundry traps were activated; fireballs, giant tentacles erupting from the trees and the ground, immobility foam that covered massive amounts of ground and even more lightning chains erupted in quick succession, winnowing the raiders like so much chaff. By the time some actually made it through, the great majority (not counting the ones I'd boxed) had been totally decimated or rendered inactive.

Those crossing out of the trapped zone had either gotten very lucky or were staggering past that imaginary "finish" line straight into the ghoul's killing zone.

When this sort of thing happens, I am reminded, once again, that it's not always about me and what I can do.

It was beautiful mayhem to watch, breathtaking.

Not that I didn't take my own shots, but they had it under control.

==Vaulted==

Later, after things got quiet again and most of the other ghouls were liberating items from the raiders, Chris stalked up to me like he was going to say something. Then, he paused and shook his finger at me.

I said, "No way can you prove that it was me." Even as I said that, I considered that I probably shouldn't have even hinted that it might be me. But the expression on his face was worth it.

He growled a little, started to say something again and then, I guess, the realization that what I said was technically true hit him. He started to chuckle. "I'd say you were terrible at being low profile, but really, you're right." He dropped his hand and sighed.

I nodded sharply. "I know I am, but I'm trying." Then I waved in the direction of Troy, who was still solidly netted to the ground. "By the way, you're going to want to talk to him. He killed Frank. I'm gonna go let the doc out."

Chris' attention returned to me briefly and he offered me a terrifying grin. "You go do that." Then he stalked off to deal with Troy.

I had returned most of the ground to the way it was before, save for the bit of earth that acted as burial mounds. The wagon was on a flat space ready to roll out. Betsy was contentedly being pet by Pam. The hammering on the wagon door had stopped a long time ago and I was feeling a bit trepidatious.

When I opened the door, Dr. Stavros stomped down the ramp and stopped in front of me. His voice was cold as he raised his hand, pointed at me and thumped me once on the chest underneath my collar bone; not too hard though. It was an emphasis thing. "I understand why you did it, and I even get that it was important, but if you ever…"

He was interrupted from his incipient tirade by Sophia, who very mildly moved that pointing finger away from my chest and down; not too hard, though. Doctors needed their fingers. "I suggest you hold that thought. She is under orders to preserve your life just as much as we are. If she pushes you into a stinking pit of radioactive mud and it saves your life you will deal with it," Then she turned to me and said, "Good job, Agent Sky."

I cleared my throat. "Sure. No problem." Then I got out of the doctor's range of vision and hung out with Pam, Reggie and Betsy for awhile. I didn't see the need to press the issue.

==Vaulted==

The ghouls did the clean up, and they were phenomenally quick about it, storing everything they found away in the wagon. That extra bit of space was gone now. Troy was dismissed from duty by Chris, with a bullet. Then we hastened on our way.

This time Pam joined Sophia and I as we walked alongside Betsy and Reggie. The Mr. Handy was our lantern, providing enough glow to make a wide, bright pathway. It was enough that aside from Chris and Klem who had taken point, we were pretty much the one's at the front, with the others fanning around us to the rear.

We didn't do much talking at first, as the previous events had been sobering, but our conversation picked up the further we got from the attack. Pam still seemed a little shaky, but she also seemed determined. I posed the option of maybe letting her sleep on top of the wagon. I figured I could set up some bars that would keep her from falling, and then run a few comfort and stability spells so she wouldn't feel like anything was moving oddly. She declined, being determined to make the same pace as the rest of us.

==Vaulted==

Pepper Up, at least in the canned form that I found myself manifesting, was awesome. At the very least, by dawn, we humans should have been dragging feet, but we were still keeping up and pretty perky to boot when the sun rose, beautifully so.

Chris called a few breaks along the way that night, and Sophia had once again been my distributor of extra goodies, so we were all in fairly good moods, considering. Betsy had plodded along and was doing pretty well, though I did check her status, just in case. I spilled a little of the Pepper Up in her water somewhere in the late middle of the night, figuring a diluted version wouldn't hurt, and it seemed to have a most salutary effect upon her. She wasn't so newly energetic that she was pulling her reins, but she was a bit happy in her step.

I was pretty sure that the Doc had squirreled away an extra can or two for later or for examination. I figured it was a good way to make up for locking him in the wagon.

We had a little less than half a day's travel, which would take us into and up the mountains a bit, when the scorpions started attacking. Well, something had been attacking us as various intervals throughout the night, so really, this was not anything that unusual. As with the other sundry attacks, I and Pam and the Doc had little to do as the beasties were taken care of. However the rate of attacks increased between us and the mountains the closer we got to them. It was possible it was because there was something about the area that lent itself to just having more of the creatures. I would have expected snakes, but it occurred to me they would have to be of immense size to compete with the scorpions meaningfully; a frightening thought.

Still we made it past that gauntlet and began our trek upwards to the "safety" of the settlement's valley.


End file.
